


Unfortunately Uneventful

by spinner33



Series: CM - Season Three [1]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Discussion of sexual assault, M/M, Tickling, rough housing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-04-25 17:16:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4969555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinner33/pseuds/spinner33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I can resist everything but temptation.” – Oscar Wilde</p><p>Coda to episode 3.14 "Damaged"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unfortunately Uneventful

Reid had been right to want to stop for the night. Hotch hadn’t been this exhausted in a long time. The stress over dealing with Haley and the finalization of their divorce, coupled with all the horrible thoughts about what could have happened with Chester Hardwick today— everything was ganging up on Hotch and dragging him down to an emotional and physical low.

It was not quite 10 p.m. when they pulled into the Super 8 somewhere in New Jersey off of I-95. They decided they could catch a few hours of sleep, get up early in the morning, and still be at work at a decent time. Reid had been right to want to stop. Hotch leaned against the counter and sighed heavily, letting the younger agent take control of the situation.

“Only one room left but it’s a king,” the clerk offered hopefully. Reid tested Hotch with a quick, nervous glance. Aaron was falling asleep standing up.

“We’ll take it,” Spencer decided, sliding the work credit card across the counter.

“I snore when I’m tired,” Hotch mumbled.

“I’ll put a pillow over my head,” Reid replied. 

“I snore very loud.”

“I’ll put a pillow over your head in that case,” Spencer smiled at him reassuringly.

Reid tugged Hotch by one arm up the stairs one floor to Room 2217. Hotch made it as far as the bed. He sat down numbly.

“You go first,” Spencer pointed to the bathroom.

Hotch nodded. He retrieved sleeping clothes and toiletries and made quick work of his bedtime ritual. When he emerged, clean and shiny and half- dead, he found that Reid had turned down the big bed, had fluffed the pillows, had hung up a suit for Hotch for tomorrow, and had chosen an appropriate tie for him as well. Aaron mumbled his gratitude and crawled onto one half of the bed.

Aaron was not even aware when the other man had climbed under the covers. Spencer and Aaron were so far apart that Hotch’s half of the bed had not moved with the introduction of Reid’s slight frame. The lights went out, and they were both asleep in minutes. It wasn’t even 10:30 p.m. yet.

Hotch woke several hours later to find that his affection-starved body was on auto-pilot. While he had been dreaming, his libido had signaled his dick that there was a warm body in bed with them. The warm body was spooned against his chest, and it was time to act. Hotch was nosing through long, silken hair, nuzzling and nibbling the back of a warm neck. He found a mouth and was tasting full lips, teasing and sucking someone’s minty tongue. His wayward hand was running the contours and the apex of a pair of delicious long thighs. He was pulling the owner of those thighs underneath himself, spreading those legs open, nestling his hips between them. 

Those knees parted willingly for him, and someone moaned his name sleepily. 

Aaron was so hard, so hungry, so ready. He continued to kiss as he was undoing buttons, sliding his hand along a slim waist, over a pointy hip bone.

It was finding the iPod between himself and the other person that had startled Hotch to his senses. The music machine leapt awake like a visible heartbeat, like a watchful guardian with one big eye. Hotch leapt up and back, landing on his knees on the mattress between the spread legs of the person underneath himself. He knew full well it wasn’t Haley—he had felt the difference in the anatomy right away. Who the hell was he in bed with? He fumbled for the lamp and couldn’t find it. 

The person below him sat up, blindly reached out a hand in the near darkness, and patted him gently on the chest.

“Mm…dreaming?” Spencer asked. The iPod swung down to his chest. Soft, soothing classical music drifted from the earbuds that were tangled through Reid’s hair and stuffed in his ears.

Hotch sighed in relief as his disorientation passed. He shook himself in embarrassed amusement, running a hand back through his hair. He plucked one earbud out of Reid’s head and spoke to him.

“Yes. You’re dreaming,” Aaron said. He let go of the cord and fled for the far side of the bed again.

“Mm, good kisser,” Spencer mumbled, smiling crookedly. He wasn’t angry. He was bubbly happy for a second or two before he put his head back to the pillow and quickly was under again. He hadn’t even opened his eyes all the way. 

Hotch was not so lucky. He lay on his side of the bed, flopped onto his back, rolled onto his other side and stared at the sleeping Spencer. How dare Reid lie there and sleep so soundly when Hotch was over here suffering, aching hard with no outlet? Aaron was pretty astonished at Reid’s lack of angry reaction. Had the unexpected occurrence, waking up with Aaron Hotchner on top of him, fully ready to strip and fuck him, not been an unpleasant surprise? Hotch didn’t know what to make of that, or what to make of why he couldn’t decide what to make of that. Given the same situation, Morgan would have gone for his gun and put a hole through Hotch. Rossi would have kicked Hotch off onto the floor and made him stay there. Reid had been so damned casual about it, it was alarming. He had actually been giddy for a second or two before falling back to sleep.

‘Good kisser’? That was all Reid had to say about what could have been the most embarrassing moment in Aaron Hotchner’s life, let alone the makings of a massive sexual harassment scandal? Part of Hotch was worried for Reid’s safety. The other part of Hotch wanted to reach over there, pull Reid back into his arms, and prove just what a good kisser he really was.

As if he could feel the eyes boring into his back, Reid stirred, rolled over, and faced Hotch. Seeing that Hotch was wide awake, Reid’s angelic face filled with sympathy and concern. He pulled out one earbud, scooted across the bed, and popped it into Aaron’s ear. Reid tucked his iPod against Hotch’s chest and retreated again. Hotch scooted closer to the middle of the bed, thinking those cords were not going to reach very far. Reid gave him a tentative look, his first sign of nervousness. Hotch pushed a pillow at Reid, and put the other earbud back in Reid’s ear. Spencer hugged the pillow to his chest, using it as a shield against Hotch. Aaron fiddled with the iPod and it shuffled at random. An 80’s heavy metal- inspired tune blasted at them both. Reid frowned to himself.

‘Everywhere that I go I can see you. Your ghost won’t die. Every breath that I take I can feel you,’

Hotch found a faint smile. This was so not the music that he pictured would be on Reid’s playlist.

‘I’ll erase every single trace of you. I’ll erase every single trace of you I’ll forget your smile. Forget your eyes. Forget your mouth. Forget your lies. I’ll erase every fucking trace of you.’

Reid stretched out one hand and fingered the dial with two fingertips. Hotch admired those long, slender hands, and wondered who had inspired Spencer to download such an angry, vengeful tune. Classical music returned—Reid’s bland, defensive wall. Spencer closed his eyes, hugged the shield pillow, and went back to sleep. Or at least he pretended to be sleeping. Hotch had his doubts. Could Spencer actually have fallen back to sleep so easily after what Hotch had almost done to him? If so, Reid was far too trusting, Aaron decided.

Sleep would not come back to Hotch, fickle mistress that she was. He listened to the quiet music for the longest time, feeling like he was trapped in a never-ending elevator ride. He stared at Reid as the young man slept. Aaron was feeling full of envy, and full of desire as well. As he stared at Reid, he could feel himself getting harder. He couldn’t believe how close he had been to sleep-fucking his baby-genius profiler.

In the beams of light that emanated from the iPod and from the hallway door, Hotch let his eyes travel over Reid’s disheveled hair, his incredible cheekbones, his shadowy jaw. Awkward, geeky, child-like, androgynous—Reid was all those things. But there were times, in certain lights, in certain moods, when Aaron looked at Spencer Reid and felt like someone had jabbed a javelin through his chest, right through his heart. There were times when he wanted Reid so much that he felt physical pain. The need was so real that it took his breath away.

The music changed again, leaving the classical genre and landing somewhere in 1990’s alternative rock.

‘Sucker love is heaven-sent You pucker up, our passion’s spent My heart’s a tart, your body’s rent My body’s broken, yours is bent.’

‘Carve your name into my arm Instead of stressed, I lie here charmed.’

Aaron was seriously beginning to worry about Reid’s musical tastes. It was a relief to know he wasn’t all Mozart and Beethoven, but this?? What did this unexpected, darker music say about him? As important as music was to the emotions of the individual, Hotch couldn’t help but profile Reid by these different tunes. Who had broken Reid’s heart, made him angry enough to appreciate and need the first song? But did it necessarily have to be someone he was in carnal love with? It could have been the salve to soothe an emotional betrayal as well. Could it have been his father? Or perhaps Gideon? There was no doubt that Reid was still smarting from the blow of losing his beloved mentor. No doubt he was pretty damned angry about it too—the way Jason had vanished, leaving a note and nothing more, abandoning him exactly as his father had abandoned him.

Hotch was more curious who had made Reid connect with the second song. It was an undeniably masochistic song. To Hotch, it spoke of a painful and joyful love, a desire you knew was bad for you, but one you longed for nonetheless. Someone you desired even though they hurt you. Someone you desired because they had hurt you. Did Reid have an unrequited love buried in his heart?

‘Pucker up, for Heaven’s sake There’s never been so stake.’

‘I serve my head up on a plate It’s only comfort calling late Cause there’s nothing else to do Every me and every you.’

Reid shivered and opened his eyes again. His brain registered what song was playing, and he gasped, terribly embarrassed. He reached for the iPod, eyes wide. 

“Oh! Gosh! Sorry!”

Aaron sighed his impatience. Why such a reaction over the song? What was going on inside Reid’s mind? What did Reid feel about this song that he was terrified Hotch would decipher? Aaron wanted to hear it to the end. He would have to search for it later on the internet. Spencer sat up and fiddled anxiously with the iPod. As he scooted up to put his back to the headboard, his loose pajama bottoms slid downward. They stopped at the top of his hips, and Hotch felt his heart racing at the sight of all that wonderful pale skin, and moles and freckles he had never seen before, and that thin trail of sandy body hair which beckoned at him.

“How can you sleep with that thing on?” Hotch asked softly.

Reid smiled, uncoiling the earbuds and setting the music device on the side table.

“In case you snored,” Spencer shrugged.

“Back in a second,” Aaron murmured, climbing out of bed and heading for the bathroom.

Hotch was gone a long time. A very long time. Long enough that Reid was beginning to worry Aaron might be drowning himself in all the water running in the bathroom. Was it wrong of Spencer to let his imagination run to what else Hotch could possibly be doing in there for so long? Spencer felt so dirty for even thinking it -- was Hotch in there touching himself? Or was Reid imagining the faint groans of desire that were being muffled by the walls and the water but not entirely concealed? Reid felt his own heart flutter at the prospect of having turned Hotch on somehow. 

And then Reid told himself he was being an idiot. Hotch was lonely, he was going through a painful divorce, and he was so not attracted to his geeky, baby-genius profiler. Not even remotely. ‘You are such a fool,’ Spencer scolded himself.

Spencer was busy pretending he was asleep when the bathroom door opened finally. The light coming in from under the hallway door was beaming across the dark room, lighting the way so Hotch wouldn’t stumble. Spencer opened his eyes when he felt the edge of the bed dip. He groaned as if he had been awakened, and he rolled over to find himself facing Aaron’s back. He put a hand on Hotch’s shoulder. Aaron was shaking. His shoulder was damp under his shirt. He was breathing hard. There were patches of dampness down his spine.

“Are you okay? Do you wanna talk?” Reid whispered solicitously.

“I’m okay,” Aaron stammered. His voice was filled with shame.

“Nightmares?” Reid whispered sleepily, offering him an easy out.

“Mm hmm.” Aaron was not so proud that he wouldn’t take that easy out.

“I’m here if you need a shoulder,” Spencer offered.

'I want so much more than your shoulder,' Hotch thought. He felt a sudden burst of anger, at himself, at Reid, at life. 

“I’m surprised you aren’t having nightmares. Locked in a room with Chester and me, circling each other like bull elephants ready to rampage,” Hotch blurted.

Reid gave a soft chuckle, staring myopically through the near-darkness at Hotch as Aaron rolled over and faced him. Hotch felt warm, even from this distance. He emanated body heat, and he was indeed breathing heavy. Was that anger or something else?

“I meant what I said. Smart thinking, distracting him that way,” Hotch added.

“Thanks,” Spencer whispered.

“I promise, we’re gonna vet these bastards a lot better before we drive out next time and put ourselves in harm’s way,” Hotch reassured Reid.

“Taser,” Spencer mumbled. 

“What’s that?”

“I’m gonna put a taser in my bag next time,” Reid explained, eyes closing.

“I was so scared…”

“What?” Reid asked, eyes opening again. Hotch reached over and rubbed Reid’s shoulder.

“I hate to think what he’d’ve done to you,” Hotch whispered, still rubbing. His hand moved from shoulder to neck, and his thumb rubbed Reid’s collarbone.

“Me too,” Reid confirmed.

“The way he kept watching you, so hungry that way,” Hotch shivered.

“Taser,” Reid whispered again. Spencer purred involuntarily with pleasure, and rolled his head backwards slightly. Aaron took his fingers away, as if it had only now occurred to him that he was thumbing the hollow in Reid’s throat.

“What would you have done?” Aaron asked. 

“What?”

“If Chester had gotten hold of you? He’s been locked up a long time.”

There was no mistaking the insinuation Hotch had been making. Reid didn’t know what to say. The pleasant glow left his face though.

“You need to cut your hair before we go back and visit any more of these guys. They have been inside a long time. They’ve been lonely a long time. You might look pretty good to them—long hair, long legs, that big sexy mouth,” Aaron said.

Reid’s expression soured even further.

“So it’s up to me to make myself undesirable rather than require Hardwick to control himself?”

“I’m just saying….”

“You think I look like a girl?” Spencer whispered.

“Yes, actually, Reid, from the back, you do look like one of those model types.”

“I should punch you right in the mouth,” Reid decided. He was full-on sulking now. Hotch found Reid’s anger so adorable that he could not help his half grin. Reid could hear that smile in the darkness, and it only served to further annoy him.

“I’m going to bring Morgan next time. I wouldn’t be as scared for him as I am for you. I know he can handle himself in tough situations,” Aaron said, not meaning it but wanting to judge Spencer’s reaction to the remark anyway.

Reid gasped, “I am not as helpless as you think I am.”

Aaron lost his mind for a moment. A moment was all it took. He snatched at Reid, yanked him horizontal, and pinned him down to the bed, arms above his  
head. Hotch sat on Reid’s thin chest and stared down at him meaningfully in the near darkness.

"You were saying?” Aaron rumbled for the position of ultimate power.

“Goddamn it, Aaron Hotchner, get off me,” Reid howled in frustration.

“If I was Chester Hardwick, you’d already be dead,” Hotch intoned, getting nearly nose to nose with Reid.

“Hotch, get off. You're really heavy,” Reid pleaded.

“Would you have pleaded with Hardwick? You heard what he said. They would beg and plead and bargain, and none of that mattered, because once he had decided to kill them, he was going to kill them.”

“You've made your point."

“I was so worried he’d hurt you,” Hotch murmured. “What would we do without you? What would I do without you?”

“Hotch, you’re hurting me….” Reid grimaced.

Reid was actually having trouble breathing. Hotch pulled back off his chest and settled for sitting on his hips instead. The move downwards had pushed Reid’s pajama bottoms to the edge of his hips again. The way Hotch was holding his arms above his head pulled the pajama tops the other way. There was a fair amount of bare skin peeking back at Hotch as he gazed downward. He was overwhelmed with the irresistible urge to tickle Spencer. But how to do that when both his hands were busy? Aaron grinned wickedly.

“Don’t even think about…..” Reid began to warn. Hotch wasn't listening. He angled his head downward and began to gnaw playfully on Reid’s bared ribs. Spencer squealed loudly, in alarm and amusement. He bucked and squirmed and twisted to get free, kicking and biting and snapping.

“That is so cute. You sound just like Jack,” Aaron paused to torment gently.

“I HATE ALPHA MALES, and all your constant rough- housing…HOTCH!!” Reid screamed when he felt teeth connect with his ribs. Hotch ducked an elbow and took a knee to the back. 

Reid wrestled wildly out of his grip. Reid sat up panting, backed up against the headboard, and clutched both arms protectively around his saliva-wet ribs. Hotch reached out one hand, and Reid slapped it away. Aaron moved left, right, left again, and managed to snatch one long foot. He dragged Reid horizontal, fingers dancing across the sole of his foot. Spencer screamed bloody murder, high and loud, cackling, shrieking with laughter.

Reid kicked viciously with both feet, and caught Aaron in the neck, snapped his head sideways. Hotch let go of Reid’s foot. Spencer coiled up against the headboard, panting, shaking, and trying hard not to laugh.

“Cut it out! I get it! I’m not physically intimidating. But you forget that what I lack in strength, I make up for with guile,” Reid insisted, rasping for breath.

“Guile?” Hotch rumbled, rubbing his neck and stretching his shoulder. The kick must have hurt. “How far do you think guile would have gotten you with Hardwick’s hands around your throat?”

The hotel phone on the table rang. Hotch reached for the phone as Reid turned on the lamp and put on his glasses.

“Hello?” Hotch rumbled deeply. “Yeah. It’s fine. My partner was having nightmares.”

Reid inhaled sharply. Aaron worried he had angered him with the little white lie. Instead, Reid jumped at him with the box of tissues, his face full of terror. He crammed a tissue to Hotch’s nose. That was when Aaron felt the tickle of blood on his upper lip.

“Gosh, are you okay? I’m sorry,” Reid quivered.

“Reid, it’s not serious. I’m fine. Not the first punch in the nose I’ve had in my life,” Aaron said grimly, brushing the back of a thumb to his nose and coming away with bright red blood. “Yeah, no, we’re fine, bye,” he muttered into the phone, hanging it up. Spencer dabbed at him again.

“Hotch, I’m so sorry,” Reid whispered again, biting his bottom lip timidly. Hotch shook his head at Reid.

“We are seriously going to have to work on your mean streak," Aaron said grimly before a quick smile rushed through his features.

“Sorry,” Reid blushed. “I won’t do it again.”

“No, Reid, it’s like that Twilight Zone episode,” Hotch hummed, holding his nose tight.

“What?” Reid said, intrigued that Hotch would know anything about the show.

“The aliens come down and scold humans for their little talent for war. The humans spend twenty-four hours coming up with all kinds of treaties and peaceful agreements, and proudly show the aliens that they’ve resolved all their conflicts."

"I remember that one. The twist is that the aliens wanted us to have more of a talent for war, not less, and so they destroy the Earth anyway,” Spencer  
nodded. “What’s your point?”

“What I’m saying is before we visit any more of these guys, you either need to cut your hair, or you need to take more self-defense courses from Morgan. Preferably, you’ll choose the self-defense courses.”

Reid didn’t reply. He raised a brow at Hotch. So Aaron liked Reid’s hair long and didn’t want him to cut it?

“You want me to work on my mean streak?” Spencer asked, tenderly touching the bridge of Hotch’s nose, looking up his nostrils, getting close enough to be leaning thigh against thigh. Hotch glanced down and back up again. Reid was practically sitting in his lap, and it was not an unpleasant feeling.

“Yes, Reid. You need to get in touch with your inner- nasty more often. That’s an order.”

“Okay. Motherfucker, if you ever pin me to a bed like that again, I will shank your ass,” Reid spat the words forcefully. He paused, gave Hotch his usual doe-eyed look. “Better? More what you had in mind?”

Hotch cackled helplessly.

“Why are you laughing?” Reid questioned, enjoying the humor that rushed through Hotch and made him nearly breathless.

“Oh God. It’s like hearing Bambi cuss.” 

“Fuck you, man,” Reid growled.

“That’s better,” Hotch cooed approvingly as Spencer scowled at him. “Since we're both up and awake, we should get dressed, and hit the road. It’s not like we’ll be getting any more sleep tonight.”

Reid climbed off the bed and dabbed another tissue to Hotch’s face.

“You need to keep your head back,” Spencer insisted, leaning close and tipping Hotch’s head backwards, holding it against his own shoulder and keeping a hand on Hotch’s throat. "I'm so sorry," he whispered.

“Reeeeeeid,” Hotch groaned, brushing impatiently out of Spencer's grip and whirling around to face him. “Noooo. Don’t apologize to me. Don’t say you’re sorry. Hit me again. Tell me I deserved it. Tell me I had it coming.”

A naughty smile tweaked the side of Reid’s mouth up.

“What?” Hotch asked. "Whatever it is, say it. That’s an order.”

Spencer got closer again and gazed down into Hotch’s eyes. He was almost nose to nose with Aaron, fingering the buttons on his pajama top, the ones that Aaron had undone while half asleep. 

“The last time someone asked me to talk like that, there was an offer of money involved," Spencer said in a hushed, husky voice, his eyes twinkling with mirth and something so much more.

Hotch caught his breath in surprise. Someone had offered Reid money to talk dirty to her? What else had she asked him to do? Hotch didn't want to imagine it but he couldn't stop picturing it either. Jealousy utterly consumed him for no reason he could easily explain, even to himself.

“Was it worth it?” Aaron gulped.

Reid purred up a tiny laugh and sexy groan that made Hotch blush. That sound had not been shy or sweet in any way.

“I dunno. I didn’t accept his offer,” Spencer whispered sultrily.

Hotch gasped again. "Him?! But...."

"Yeah, him," Reid nodded. "Admit it, Hotch. You've seen it. People say and do inappropriate things with me. There's something about me that kinda says, 'Go ahead, help yourself'."

"I wouldn't go that far," Aaron tried to be supportive.

"You wouldn't? Really? You almost did," Reid whispered, giving him a half smile. Aaron blushed brightly. Reid had made his point, and he hadn't even had to raise his voice. He headed for the bathroom, smiling the whole way.

"Not what I meant," Hotch called out half-heartedly. “We leave in ten minutes,” he added grumpily. Spencer paused and reached back for his clothes.

“I’ll be ready in five. Quit bleeding everywhere, Hotch. They’ll think we spent the night sacrificing virgins in that bed.”

Hotch put another tissue to his nose and watched Reid disappear behind the closed door.

**Author's Note:**

> Songs quoted are: "Every Trace" by Dreaming and "Every You Every Me" by Placebo.


End file.
